


Perils of a Stormy Night part 1/12 + fan art

by texasislandr



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-08
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texasislandr/pseuds/texasislandr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident on a stormy night leads to awkward silences after Merlin is injured, and everyone is left dealing with the after effects. Merlin/Arthur Friendship fic. Can be pre-slash if you wear those kind of goggles.</p>
<p>Future chapters will have spoilers for episodes 1x10 - Moment of Truth / 1x13 - Le Morte d'Arthur / 2x13 - The Last Dragonlord</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When the Thunder Rolls

 

**Disclaimer: I don’t own BBC’s Merlin or any of the characters, though I sure wish I did.**

** **

  
             

** The Perils of a Stormy Night  **

** Chapter 1: When the Thunder Rolls  **

For hours the heavens had wept a barrage of rain over Camelot, the wind whipping the bitter fall air. Thunder rumbled throughout the night, lightening crackling and spreading across the skies like firey branches. Small rivers formed in the trenches, the surrounding dirt turning to mud, cobblestones becoming slick.

"Stupid prat." Merlin growled, cursing the prince for the hundredth time that evening as he pushed his still wet bangs away from his face. He was soaked from head to foot, his shoes giving off an annoying squelching sound as he walked around the stables.

The young warlock had expected to be in bed right now, warm under his blanket and fast asleep like the rest of the city. Instead he found himself chilled to the bones as he finished the extra chores Arthur had _gifted_ him with.

Each horse had been blanketed, tether secured, and the stalls cleaned and ready to return the new mare Arthur had just aquired. She was a beautiful animal with a bright bay coat accented with black tinted legs, maine, and tail. The prince had named her Vidaldei. She was a powerful animal, but she was still in need of some training to refine her temperment.

Unfortunately for Merlin, Vidaldei was proving to be a little skittish and her nervous behavior was quickly becoming increasingly agitated by the terbulant weather. For that matter, all the beasts were a little edgy, ears alert and twitching at the sounds of the raging storm outside. They each pawed nervously at the ground, occasionally tossing their heads with a huff or a whinny. Merlin did his best to comfort the animals as best as he could, though a few of the more agitated ones were given a wide berth.

He walked over to Vidaldei and placed a comforting hand on her muzzle as he untied the lead. "Easy girl." he soothed giving her a gentle pat. Gripping the halter, Merlin began leading the mare towards the stall.

Vidaldei let out a heated snort, flicking her head to the side as she moved nervously. "Come on girl." Merlin coaxed tugging slightly to urge the horse forward. Slowly he backed into the stall with the skitterish mare cautiously following, the freshly layed hay compressing under her heavy hooves.

"That's it, now let's get you settled. I don't know about you girl, but I'm ready to go to bed." He grinned as he reached to tie the lead into place. A loud crack of thunder sounded and Vidaldei rearedup causing the rest of the stables to fill with irritated sounds from its inhabitants.

"Whoa!" Merlin exclaimed as he was pulled off balance, his feet moving hastily in an attemt to steady himself. As soon as he got his footing, he gave a relieved sigh and leaned forward to stroke the animal's breast. Slowly he guided his hand up and over her shoulder, letting his fingers softly brush across the mare's withers.

"Just a little bit of thunder," he stated softly. "Don't worry about it; never harmed anyone." He looked into the beasts black fearful eyes, a reasuring smile playing on his lips "Come now." He murmured.

Hesitantly, the horse began to move back into place. When Merlin was confident that Vidaldei had settled, he turned away. Ironically, it was as if the fates themselves hated him as the skies chose that very moment to errupt again into a sudden earth shattering explosion. Merlin himself jumped in surprise, every muscle in his body tensing in unison. He didn't even have time to process the events happening around him before he was suddenly flung into the boarded wall beside him. He _hit the wall_ with an _oof!_ , the air fleeing his lungs as the large horse pressed its broad body into him, pinning him for a moment against the solid planks.

A frightened Vidaldei backed up with a snort releasing the pressure on the servant's chest, allowing Merlin to suck in a ragged breath. " _I'm going to turn Arthur into a toad in the morning,"_ he growled internally, trying to steady himself. " _this is ridiculous!"_

His fingers fumbled and grabbed for the halter that had been momentarily dropped. Merlin gripped the leather tightly easily taking up the slack. "Easy girl. See, I'm not afraid, so you shouldn't be either." Merlin cooed, the calmness of the statement being betrayed by the underlying quiver in his voice.

Vidaldei huffed, and no matter how he tried to calm the animal, it was no use.She no longer desired to listen to him. The mare began to jump and fidget in agitation, oblivious to the man who was trapped infront of her. Merlin stumbled, his feet trying desperately to avoid getting stepped on. One well aimed hit and the animal would surely break the bones resting beneath its hooves. An injury like that would leave him incopasitated for weeks and if that alone wasn't motivation enough, the avoidance of intense pain was.

Merlin tried to prevent the horse from hurting itself or bolting but the situation had become dangerous and he wondered quickly how he was going to prevent injury to himself. The storm continued its angry assault and it caused Vidaldei to finish her retreat from the stall. Despite Merlin's best efforts to hold the beast back, his slight frame was of no match for the large, determined and stalky animal. Merlin was flung painfully into a nearby post, his fingers clawing to find baring.

Once freed the mare reared and Merlin barely escaped being clocked in the chin by Vidaldei's knee. He dodged clumsily, his feet stumbling beneath him. Merlin tried desperately to anticipate the horse's next move so that he could shift accordingly and remove himself from its path. The animal abruptly swung around to gallop to the other side of the stable, but not before knocking the boy over forcefully with her hind qaurters, her tail whipping him in the face like a multitude of tiny needles. She retreated hastily, ignoring the boy she had tossed back like a rag doll.

Merlin's entire body flayed out in the air just as his feet went out from under him. With a panicked shout that further startled the horses, he fell. Gravity had a hold of him as his body tensed with the sickening antisipation of striking the hard ground. Unfortunately, the path to the well packed earth was not a clear one and his raven covered head struck violently against a corner of the post behind him. There was a blinding pain that shot pin pricks up and down the lengths of his arms and legs, lights bursting infront of his eyes. He dropped to the floor in a heap, shocked and unable to move his unresposive body. He couldn't even utter a sound. He stared up at his surroundings vacantly, feeling numb as a rush of darkness spread across his vision and it was then that he knew nothing.  



	2. Night Trials

Chapter 2: Night Trials

When Merlin drifted into consciousness, he was first aware of only the agony that resided deep within his skull. His thoughts were muddled. All he could hear was the sound of rain drops as they pelted down on the roof above him. Each patter sounded far louder than should have been possible, resulting in more discomfort for the fallen man. 

‘What happened? Where am I?’

The silent questions bounced around amongst the roaring chaos, inside his head. He desperately wanted to understand what had happened to him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the surrounding smells. The foul aroma of animals mingled with their waste, which was accented by freshly laid straw, filled his nostrils. Even through his disorientation, Merlin knew he was within the stables.

Painful flashes of recent memories flitted through his mind in fractured pieces. He groaned at the onslaught, trying to push back the rush of information that decided to overwhelm him all at once.

Merlin breathed in again in an effort to calm himself. Ever so slowly he opened his eyes with a flutter of his lashes, his vision unsure. A hazy ceiling was all that met him, so he lifted his head just a fraction in a futile attempt to get his bearings. 

Merlin felt instantaneous regret when immediately following the action, his stomach began to churn, bile bubbling up his throat. His body reacted violently, and with an arched convulsion Merlin rolled sideways and wretched. His lithe frame shook painfully with every agonized heave, his insides clenching as it expelled its contents onto the ground. In moments the dizziness retreated and Merlin collapsed onto his front. He choked on a sob and laid there panting miserably, tears having gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Time was a blur. Merlin was unaware of how much time had truly passed while he let himself recover. He let the tremors ebb before attempting to muster enough energy to pry his eyes open a second time. He knew something was wrong; his own body seemed to want rebel against him. ‘I need to get to Gaius’, he told himself urgently as his fingers involuntarily twitched at his sides. 

With an enormous effort, he focused his eyes the best he could. The image before him shifted in the flickering firelight, but amidst the garbled mess of shapes and shadows he could just make out the shape of the stable doors.

It was a beautiful sight, one that called to him, promising him freedom. Hesitantly, Merlin lifted the arm that rested beside him and dragged the appendage forward. He shifted and slid the hand beneath his chest, preparing himself for the next move. 

Merlin pushed upwards and a hissed breath passed forcefully through his clenched teeth just as his torso lifted off the floor. His head stayed bowed low, even as he gathered his knees underneath him. With a deep breath of expressed relief, the young man began to move forward awkwardly. 

Merlin inched towards his goal with forced patience, his body moving slowly closer to the front of the enclosure. The muck that had yet to be cleaned was now leeched onto his breaches. Layers of filth clung to his hands as he slid towards his destination. Despite the chilled air, sweat beaded on his pinched brow. Some of the salty drops that had gathered broke free to slide down his angled features. His arms trembled, a steady quake travelling up his limbs until his whole upper body shook with them. 

Merlin hadn't made it but halfway when an undesired wave of vertigo swept over him, tilting his vision abruptly. His ears started to ring and his head began pounding with a renewed fervor. The painful throb that plagued him, felt as if it cruelly beat in time with his own heart.

With little warning, Merlin felt the familiar and unwanted sensation rising up. A groan of misery escaped him as his insides rebelled once again, causing his stomach to contract like a vice. Instantly, little more than bile was forced up and out. Merlin coughed and heaved, his elbows giving way. He collapsed into a heap, his own vomit soaking into his tunic. 

Merlin laid there breathing heavily, his face pressed into the hay scattered about him. When his ears cleared, the nervous sound of Vidaldei's hooves pawing at the stones could be heard off to his right. Even though the door was only a couple of meters away, Merlin felt it might as well have been several kilometers with how his surroundings seemed to keep shifting. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and give in to the darkness that kept trying to claim him, but he knew he couldn't. If he surrendered to the temptation now, then help would not come until morning. No one of consequence even knew he was there. 

‘You can do this’, his mind encouraged. ‘…just keep moving!’ Carefully, with a seemingly renewed resolve, he began rising to his knees once again. 

"G…aah!" he groaned, taking in a quivering breath. He gave the world a few moments to settle before forcing his limbs to continue their journey.

By the time Merlin reached the double doors he was fully spent. He gazed up at the latch above him like it was a perilous mountain he was expected to climb. Clinching his teeth, Merlin placed the soiled palms of his hands against the solid wood. Ever so slowly he slid his fingers up the barrier, stretching to reach the lever above. 

When his physical efforts were evidently failing he opened his mouth to speak. "Unlucan en openian!" he chanted as his eyes flashed a brilliant gold. Of all the things he had anticipated to happen, he had not foreseen this one repercussion. A strangled cry escaped him, his head feeling as if a dagger had just been driven straight through his skull. 

Merlin dropped to a bow, both of his hands instinctively gripping the sides of his head. When his long fingers fisted in his hair forcefully, he hissed sharply. Quickly he retracted his left hand, the appendage having inadvertently contacted a tender area. 

Merlin stared blearily at the palm before him and he didn't need his perfect sight to see the crimson that now coated his hand. He could smell the coppery stench as it mingled in with everything else. "Ah hell!" he groaned, looking away from the blood. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not now. ‘Focus on the task’, he scolded. ‘Focus on what you need to do.’

Before him the door sat ajar, just as his magic had intended for it to. With a shuddering gasp Merlin reached over and grasped the wood. It only took a slight tug before it began to creak open further, the sounds being drowned out by the raging storm.

The skies outside were illuminated with streaks of lightening as the rain poured in sheets. Merlin shivered as the chilled air swept over him like a cold bucket of water. The ground around him quickly became wet as the wind carried the rain in over the threshold. As he stared out into flickering darkness all Merlin could think was. ‘It's too far. I'll never make it.’

Despite comments from certain royal people, he wasn't an idiot. Merlin knew that even if he were to make it to the courtyard, no one would be there. His own cries for help would never be heard over the roar of the rain that was ever present. All his hope spilled away with that single revelation. The determination he had used to make it across the stables quickly fled from him, a feeling of dejection taking its place. 

With a growl of frustration he took his chilled fingers and shoved the door closed. Merlin's nails dragged down the barrier, catching on the loose splinters. He collapsed to the side with a choked sob, his body involuntarily curling into a fetal position. He felt his chest tighten painfully as tears of failure filled his eyes.

This time when the ever encroaching darkness slithered into view, he didn't fight it. Merlin surrendered into the merciful embrace of unconsciousness, just as the first salty drops broke free to cascade down the ridges of his cheeks.


	3. Dawn Discoveries

Chapter 3: Dawn Discoveries

It was the crack of dawn and the sun was just beginning to peek out over the horizon, bringing with it the hope of warmth and light. The deluge of the evening before had dwindled down over the past few hours. All the evidence that was left of the downpour was muddy streets and damp stones. The air was still cool and the scent of rain clung in the breezes. The skies were painted with the beautiful colours of the sunrise as roosters in the lower town announcing the new day to all who'd listen.

Thomas pushed his brown locks away from his eyes, as he quietly strolled towards the large stable doors a few meters away. He tugged his jacket tighter over his tall thin frame, trying to block the chilled air from seeping further into his sun tanned skin. He was once again ready to begin his duties, just as he was every morning. He had been taking care of the royal household's horses for almost twenty years, as his father did before him. His hands fumbled with the door latch, opening it a crack before slipping into the much warmer enclosure. 

To say his sienna eyes were stunned to find Vidaldei pacing the main floor unrestrained would be an understatement. His strong jaw dotted with the shadow of a fresh beard dropped a fraction, eyes crinkling up into the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners. "Oi! What are ya' doing out of your stall?" he exclaimed, his long legs striding over to the mare. "Harry musta tied ya wrong, the bloody idiot." he grumbled, cursing the young helper as he gripped the horse's halter and lead her towards a vacant stall.

As if on cue, Harold’s rounded face popped through the door, then followed by his much shorter and somewhat stocky frame. His pale emerald eyes peered through his raven fringe and immediately focused on the sight before him. "Ey! Tom, what are ya doing with the prince's mare?"

"Putting her up ya fool. I found her roaming around un-tethered. You're lucky that I found her and not the prince. He'd of been in an awful foul mood otherwise, liable to toss ya in the stocks even." Thomas replied with a roll of his eyes as he turned back to the horse.

"I'm lucky?!" Harold protested confused. "I had her tied up tight before I left for the evening. If you're gonna blame somebody blame Merlin! The clumsy oaf was in here when I left for the night."

"Merlin?" Tom said surprised, his hands stilled from tying the mare secure in her stall. "What was the lad doing out here so late in the evenin'?"

"Don't know, but I'm guessing he was ordered by the Prince. He was quite miffed about having to muck out and blanket the horses at such an hour. I wasn't going to complain though, because I got to go home early to be with Desiree." 

Tom sent Harold a knowing grin as he finished tethering Vidaldei in place. Harold chuckled and moved forward to grab a rake that was leaned against the side boards, but paused mid reach when his green eyes caught sight of an abnormality. 

"What the…?" he spouted, his fingers moving to touch the red that was streaked across the corner post. The substance was dark and seemed to have dried for the most part, but there were fine strands of dark hair clinging to it. 

"What ya looking at Harry?" Thomas inquired as he strode around to peer over the other man's shoulder. "Hey, that looks an awful lot like dried blood." The older man said warily, his eyes dropping down to the floor. 

"Bloody hell!" Tom exclaimed ungracefully stumbling away from the area he had been standing. When Harold saw what had his friend in a tizzy, he followed suit with an indignant noise escaping him as he fled. 

"T-that's a lot of blood!" Harold stated unnecessarily, as both men eyed the congealed puddle that had been beneath them a moment before. "Do ya think someone was murdered?" 

"I don't know!" Tom hissed, moving further back. "...but I'm not waitin' to find out. I'm callin' the guards." Turning on his heel the man quickly began to retreat with Harry right on his tail.

"Oh God!" Thomas choked, his body freezing halfway to the door. Harold, not expecting the sudden stop, found himself colliding into Tom's back with a Thump! Both men staggered and nearly fell face first to the ground. 

"Hey, Harry its Merlin!" Tom asserted once he recovered, quickly running over to Merlin's still side.

"Is he dead?" Harold croaked, not moving from his spot as he watched the older man leaning over the body.

"Go get the guards and send for the physician. I think the lad's still alive." 

Tom looked up with a frustrated expression when Harold made no move to follow his instructions. "Well what are ya waitin' for? Get goin' now! Unless ya want to explain to the prince how ya let his manservant die, while ya stood there gawkin'!"

Without a word of protest, the younger man snapped his jaw closed and fled the stable as fast as his feet could take him.

Back inside, Tom looked down at the boy in front of him. "Mercy be..." he breathed, shock clearly creasing his brow. "What happened to ya boy?" 

Carefully he turned Merlin over onto his back. Since he did not know the extent of the young man's injuries, he shifted the boy as gently as he could with his calloused hands. The stench that wafted off the lanky form was intense and Thomas had to swallow down the urge to gag at the offensive smell.

The blood seemed to originate from about the head and with a glance across the stables Tom suspiciously eyed the edge of the post that had originally caught Harold's eye. As he looked back at Merlin's soiled face, he lifted his hands and slowly turned the servant's head. He probed the area that seemed to be the centre of the swollen mass and there on the back of his skull amidst matted raven hair was a jagged wound. 

Merlin emitted a low groan causing Tom to retract his fingers. "Can you hear me boy?" He asked swallowing thickly. He was rewarded by the two eyes cracking open, a sliver of blue peeking out from beneath each lid. "Merlin?" he called, placing a hesitant hand on the boy's shoulder.

A stream of words that were barely more than a whisper passed over Merlin's lips. The older man leaned in closer eager to listen but soon found his brow furrowed in confusion at the jumble of slurred nonsense.

"You're not makin' a lick of sense boy." he huffed. With a fearful expression, Tom watched as Merlin's eyes rolled back in to his head, flashing the whites of his eyes briefly before they slipped closed. 

The sound of shouts and several pairs of boots made the man suck in a deep breath, as the loud clamour of four guards filled the room. Gaius' sinewy frame followed soon after, his lined face etched with worry.

"What on earth happened here?" Gaius interrogated calmly, though the look of worry in his eyes and the slight tremor in his hands belied the composed tone of his voice.

"I came to work to find one of the prince's horses loose in the stables, Harold found some blood by the back stalls and when we went to call the guards I saw the lad lying on the floor. Harry said Merlin was still mucking out the stalls when he left last night."

"I retired early yesterday evening and I never heard him return." Gaius stated guiltily. "His bed hasn't been slept in, so I can only assume that he has been here all night." 

Quietly, Tom moved away as the old man knelt in his place. The physician leaned over his apprentice and tried not to wince at the coolness of Merlin's skin. "Oh my boy, what have you gotten yourself into?" He murmured as he removed his aged hand from Merlin's soiled yet pale face. 

"He's freezing, but his brow feels also of fever. Someone get me one of those blankets." He ordered, gesturing to the folded fabric across the room amidst the other tack. "We also need to remove his clothing, it's filthy and damp." 

Wordlessly the guards complied, one leaving to retrieve the supplies as two others unsheathed their daggers and began to cut away the ruined garments. The fabric was removed piece by piece and soon Merlin's body had been completely stripped. Immediately he was wrapped into an awaiting blanket.

Gaius turned the boy's head to investigate the wound on his skull. He couldn't help but gasp at the sight before gently laying him back down. "He must've been struck forcefully by something." he commented.

"There's blood on the post over there, right on the top edge." Tom indicated with a point of his finger.

"That would have done it," Gaius affirmed with a grimace. "Thomas, did he ever awaken?" he asked looking up at the stable hand. 

"Only for a moment, just before you arrived." 

"Did he say anything, anything at all?" The healer inquired.

"He tried," Thomas started. "…but it was nothing but nonsense."

"By nonsense do you mean clear words with no meaning or as in slurred speech like a man who was drunk?"

"It was as if it were slurred." Tom replied confidently. "I couldn't understand a word."

Gaius nodded and his frown deepened. Quietly he brought one of the fragments of Merlin's tunic up to his nose and inhaled with a cringe. "I can smell bile, which means he's been awake before then. He obviously had time to become nauseas from the head wound."

"Over here!" Harold announced pointing to the floor, indicating the dried fluid that rested halfway between them and the back stalls. "He got sick here I think."

Gaius nodded in acknowledgment, before carefully lifting Merlin's eyelids with the pads of his thumbs. The physician's frown deepened when he looked deep into both of Merlin's eyes.

"We must get him to my chambers immediately." He said urgently, rising to his feet and motioning for the men to carry the prone figure.

"What's happening? What's the matter with him?" Tom queried as he followed swiftly after the retreating man.

"Merlin's pupils are uneven, indicating that his head trauma could be quite severe. I must get him to my quarters where I can assess his condition further." The older man clarified as they crossed the court yard. "Please go to the prince's room and inform his majesty of what has happened."

"O-Of course!" Tom jabbered, quickly veering off from the group and in to the castle towards Arthur's chambers.


	4. Desperate times call for Desperate Measures p1

Chapter 4 – Desperate times call for Desperate Measures (part 1)

'What's the use of having a manservant, when he’s never there?!' Arthur fumed internally as he laced up his breeches. Merlin was late yet again, leaving the prince to prepare for the day ahead himself. With a growl he stalked over to his table to collect his tunic, once again cursing the dopey eared boy for his breakfast, or the lack there of.

A loud knock echoed through the room and he was almost shocked by the oddity of having his manservant attempt to enter properly. "It's about time Merlin!" he drawled loudly. "I was beginning to think you were fancying the stocks today."

There was a pause of silence, and Arthur couldn't help but give the door a strange look. "Well are you coming in or not? I don't have all day."

With a creak the door opened and the head of a man who was most definitely not Merlin popped in. "My name is Thomas, milord," he spoke hesitantly, staring at the bare-chested royal from beneath lowered lashes. "Forgive me the intrusion sire, but I was sent here by the physician to tell you what has happened."

Arthur frowned. His stomach turned with the beginnings of unease, but he kept his gaze direct and his features schooled. "Well, carry on then, what is it you have to say?"

"There was an incident in the stables sire."

"Are the horses alright?" The prince questioned, his frown deepening.

"Yes sire, the animals are fine. It's your manservant, Merlin."

That was all it took for Arthur's unease to sweep into full fledged dread. "What happened?" he asked seriously.

"We don't know for sure sire. We found the lad this mornin'; he was unconscious and bleedin' from the head. Gaius believes the injury happened last night, for the boy never returned home. Harry said when he left for the evenin' that Merlin was the last one in the stables."

"Where are they now?!" Arthur demanded, pulling the tunic that he had been holding over his head hastily.

"The physician's chambers Milord."

"Very well, you may go." Arthur spouted, quickly dismissing the man as he tried to fix his belt. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest and he had to swallow the lump that was rising in his throat. In a flash he had swiped his sword from his chair and was out the door, his feet pounding against the stone floors throughout the halls.

MERLINMERLINMERLIN

When Arthur entered the physician's chambers he was met with the sight of Gaius leaning over Merlin who was sprawled on the bed below.

"You're Majesty." Gaius acknowledged, rising to look at the young man who had just barged in.

Arthur approached the bed within a few strides and looked down at his manservant with evident worry. "How is he Gaius?"

"He has an injury to his head, as I'm sure you have been told. The evidence at the scene shows he has been sick and Thomas says Merlin was slurring his words when he awoke briefly. I worry, for he is showing the same symptoms as the young knight, who was injured several years ago during the tournaments."

"Yes, I remember Sir Reginald. He was a good man." Arthur stated, his insides twisting. Neither one of the men wanted to acknowledge the unspoken fear that passed between them at the mention of the deceased Knight's name.

Gaius moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the blanket back to expose the boy's feet. He leaned over Merlin again with a sharp pin held in his finger tips and proceeded to prick multiple parts of the sensitive skin. An exasperated sigh escaped him as he re-covered the barely moving appendages. "Only a slight twitch..." He murmured.

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked warily.

"It confirms what I fear," Gaius spoke gravely. "I have been unable to rouse him by any of the traditional means. There is most likely a bleed that is putting pressure on his brain. It would have been small for it to incapacitate at this slow a pace, had it not, he would have been dead already." He divulged, before continuing. "It appears that he may have fallen into a coma though I cannot be certain of this. If he has, I believe it a light one for now, but it would progress deeper and deeper as the bleed continues."

"A coma, what is that?"

"It is a deep sleep or unconsciousness that cannot be broken with anyone attempting to rouse the victim."

"Then when will he awaken?" Arthur asked tonelessly. Gaius sighed. "I don't know sire, in some cases the patient never does. That is why they call it the sleeping death." The older man looked away and Arthur found himself in shock.

"You said you don't even know if he is in one, so there must be something that can help." He asserted fiercely.

"Only time will tell if it's a coma, but if he has a haemorrhage, which I'm almost positively sure of, then time isn't something that Merlin has. The only cure is to relieve the pressure that is slowly building within his skull."

"Then do it." The Prince ordered urgently.

"You don't understand Sire," Gaius said cautiously. "There is a procedure called trepanning that I have heard of, but only within unofficial records and rumours of stories passed on from physician to physician. I don't have any proof that there is any truth or results behind it, nor have I ever dared to try such a thing myself."

"Well surely it's worth a try!" Arthur exclaimed hopefully. "I mean, we can't just watch him die."

"The experiment in itself could kill him and even if he survived the initial procedure the complications that may follow most certainly would."

"What is it you would have to do?"

"I would need a small-bladed tram, which I would use to bore a hole into the skull at the impact site."

Gaius could see the look of pure horror that washed over the young royal's face, for it was the same horror that gripped his own heart.

The Prince looked down at the pale dirty face of his friend and swallowed. "What help would that be?" he asked morosely.

"It is supposed to let the blood drain and relieve the pressure, but many of the cases I was told of died from severe infections shortly after, if not from the operation itself. I cannot be certain if it even works. It would be no better than frivolously gambling with the boy's life."

"But you said he will die without it anyway," Arthur said solemnly, his face hardening with a blink of his eyes. "I want you to do it."

"I don't think I can." Gaius disclosed, looking at Merlin's face with a pained look. He could feel his very heart palpitating nervously in his chest.

"Can't or won't?" Arthur hissed, his hand shooting out to grasp the physicians arm in a firm hold.

The older man flinched. "I don't know." he answered honestly. "I do not wish to cause him needless suffering."

"But you wish him to die instead?" Arthur cursed himself the moment the words left his mouth and he felt terrible at Gaius' stricken expression.

"I care deeply for Merlin, Sire. I love him as if he were my own son."

"I know." Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. But…but I'm ordering you to try. I'm ordering you to do it. I'll take full responsibility for whatever happens."

The older man opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly closed it at the intense look being given to him by the Prince. It was very apparent that Arthur was afraid despite his attempts to hide his feelings. The emotion was clearly reflected within his eyes. Gaius understood this, for it was the same fear that plagued him. Relenting, the physician walked towards his cabinets. "If it is to be done, then we must hurry and make the preparations."

Arthur nodded and looked at his friends face once more. "What do you need me to do?"

"I will need you after I get Merlin to drink this potion. It is the strongest thing I can give him for pain in his condition. I just hope it and his unconsciousness are enough." he stated.

Gaius brought the bottle over and popped the cork out of the top. Passing the Prince, the older man leaned forward and held the boy's nose closed as he poured the contents into his mouth and forced the body beneath him to reflexively swallow. Straightening, he looked over at Arthur and sighed.

"We must first turn him onto his stomach. Then he must be immobilized. Tie his arms and legs to the post using these." He instructed, handing the young royal several leather restraints.

Quietly, Arthur turned his friend's slight frame over gently and began to secure each limb to the wooden bed. He only looked up from his task to glance at Gaius who was locking a metal brace around Merlin's head. "What is that?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"The slightest movement could cause a slip and kill him. I will take every precaution that is available to me."

Nodding in agreement, the Prince opted to let the room fall into silence. He couldn't find the words to say even if he wanted to. He breathed in shakily and began to pray to the heavens.


	5. Desperate times call for Desperate Measures p2

Chapter 5 - Desperate times call for Desperate Measures (part 2)

Gaius disappeared, then reappeared with a freshly cleansed tram and a razor held in his withered hands. Arthur hesitated, his eyes fixated on the now deadly looking device. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, he looked away trying to focus on something else, anything else. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but swallow thickly against the bile that was threatening to rise in his throat. He really couldn’t believe this whole situation; this wasn't supposed to be happening. Merlin wasn't supposed to be on the verge of death again--life was just so unfair.

Gaius' hand trembled in indecision as he stepped closer to the bed. "I don't know if I can do this Sire." He admitted brokenly.

"Please try." Arthur pleaded. “I need you to try.”

The older man took a shaky breath and lifted the razor and began to gently clear the dark hair away from the site, the short strands falling away. In only the passing of a few moments, the skin beneath was revealed, exposing the ugly bruise that marred the normally pale flesh. Both men couldn’t help but cringe at the sight.

Diligently Gaius worked to clean the area fully, before taking a scalpel and cutting the flesh into the crisscrossed form of an X. Carefully the physician peeled back the skin a piece at a time, tacking down each edge as he went. When he was finished, Gaius hesitantly lifted the tram and placed it onto to the now exposed bone. "I'm so sorry, my boy." the older man murmured breathily. 

When the older man began turning the lever Arthur flinched, as if it were his own skull that the drill was beginning to bore into. The scene before him was barbaric, and the young royal couldn’t help but look away. Despite his best efforts he found he couldn’t escape, for even with his head bowed the eerie noises of metal scraping across heavy bone continued to echo through his ears. The drill sank deeper with each twist of the lever, and Arthur’s insides curled up with each horrid sound that came as it did so. 

"Oh God!" Gaius exclaimed suddenly, causing the Prince's head to snap up. Panicked Arthur searched the physicians face urgently for answers. 

"What?" he hissed. 

"Merlin's fingers just twitched. I must hurry!" he explained urgently.

Both of the men's fears were brought to life when a groan sounded and the servant's fingers began to curl into the thickness of the mattress.

"I thought he wasn’t supposed to wake up!" The Prince spouted incredulously.

"His unconsciousness is not as deep as I had first feared. He is waking up!" 

As if to prove the physician's point, a strangled cry of pain tore from the younger man on the bed. Merlin's body went rigid as it instinctively began to fight the restraints that held him, his breathing becoming labored and filled with pain.

Gaius' hands stilled and his face filled with horror. 

"I thought you gave him something for the pain!" Arthur growled.

"I gave him what I could! Anything more would have been too dangerous in his condition."

Several guards burst into the room at the commotion, before halting in their tracks and backing up in shock. 

"I need you to hold him steady, Sire." 

"Men, we need your help.” Arthur barked acknowledging the guards. “All of you take hold and don't let him move or you will have me to answer to." 

As soon as the men had the boy properly restrained, Gaius began twisting the lever again. The present heavy breathing turned once again into desperate cries, which quickly morphed into tormented screams. Regardless of the events around him, the older man's experienced hands held steady, though streams of tears ran down his aged face unchecked.

Arthur was quickly beginning to regretting his decision, feeling as though he couldn't handle the sound of Merlin's anguished cries for much longer. Then like an answered prayer Gaius hissed "I'm through!" and gently began removing the tram. 

The Prince let out a grateful huff, and Merlin's cries began to subside into groans and heavy panting. One at a time the guards lifted and backed away, leaving the physician's now shaking fingers to fumble at removing the brace from his ward. 

Arthur watched as the older man turned Merlin's now unrestrained head more to the side, revealing the boy’s pained expression. "What must be done now?" He questioned, letting himself sit down on a chair next to his servant, his fingers resisting the urge to brush a stray lock from the boy's wet face. Whether the shine was from sweat or tears the Prince tried not to think about it, or the implications that either meant. 

Gaius grabbed a basin, held it to the back of his ward's head and tilted his skull further down until a stream of blood flowed from the wound and into the bowl. 

Arthur took pity on the guards who were blanching and moving farther away, and motioned for them to exit the chambers. 

"Did it work?" he asked. 

"It's far too early to tell, we will have to wait and hope for a miracle." The older man answered softly.

Gaius had reached the point of no return. He knew the treatment couldn't be completed without an incantation to seal the broken blood vessels that had caused the leak. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the young royal across from him. "Could you please get me some fresh water, your majesty?"

Arthur looked up and nodded, reaching for the dish that lay between them. Watching the young man walk away Gaius gathered all the nerve that he could. Leaning forward he murmured the sacred words into Merlin's ear, praying for his dormant magic to rise up and work. Quietly, as if nothing happened, he positioned the skin, and began stitching the wound closed with a needle and thread. 

For a brief moment the boy's lids lifted, revealing eyes that rolled around without objective. Arthur, who had returned and was setting the bowl down, quickly tried to catch Merlin's attention. Moments later the familiar sapphire orbs slipped back into the depths of their sockets and disappeared.

"Gaius?" Arthur called hesitantly. The Prince leaned forward and touched his servant's face. "Merlin?" he whispered. 

When no response came, he looked up to Gaius who sighed. "He's only unconscious sire and be thankful that he is, for right now it is nothing short of mercy."

Arthur nodded solemnly. 

"I do not wish to burden you further your majesty, but I believe you deserve to know."

"What is it Gaius?"

"Even if Merlin does miraculously recover from this, I cannot be for certain that he will be the same." The physician warned.

"I don't understand."

"Head trauma is very delicate, as you are very well aware of, your majesty. The initial blow or even the pressure of the bleed could have damaged the brain irreparably."

"So you're saying he might be brain damaged?…H-how bad?"

"It’s impossible to know this early. I am hoping that Merlin will be the same as before, but I must be realistic and know that he may not be."

"So his personality could change?" Arthur questioned and then he grinned. "Maybe he'll wake up and finally be respectful."

"Maybe," Gaius agreed allowing for a fleeting smile. "…though you must be prepared for the worst, Sire. The effects can be as diverse as they are severe. He could have mobility problems or paralysis. His speech could be impaired or gone completely, as well as his sight, hearing, smell or…" the older man trailed off unable to continue. Shaking his head Gaius began applying the herbal mixtures, along with oil, honey, and clean strips of cloth to his patient's wounds.

"Or what, Gaius?" Arthur insisted.

"Merlin…he could be gone. A shell almost, he'd breathe and blink his eyes but would hardly be able to do much of anything else."

The prince frowned, his features darkening. "No…" he denied, standing up.

"Sire, look it--"

"NO!" Arthur repeated in frustration. "I won't believe it possible! It could never happen, not to Merlin!" he hissed. "Not to him, not ever!" 

Gaius flinched at the Prince's outburst, and then again as the door slammed behind him with a resounding 'crack!' leaving the older physician to wait by Merlin's side alone.


	6. A Feverish Wait

Chapter 6: A Feverish Wait 

Arthur's ever present frown deepened with visible self-loathing. This whole situation had been created from his own morbid sense of humor and his inability to control the urge to subject Merlin to it. It had all started when he had ordered Merlin to muck out his horses when it was obviously far too late in the evening, and his only excuse was that it was the boy's punishment for scaring away the twelve point buck they had been tracking on the hunt that morning. At the time, the Prince couldn't hold back the smug smile that crossed his lips when Merlin sent a pointed look of disdain his way. The younger man had immediately protested, denying said accusations saying it wasn't his fault it escaped and that he was always unjustly stuck with the blame. Merlin's complaints however, fell on deaf ears and he was literally shooed from his master's chambers while mumbling the word "Pratt" under his breath.

Arthur had then watched from his window as Merlin crossed the court yard and proceeded to laugh as his servant's lanky form was quickly drenched by the torrential rains. He had found it all terribly amusing at the time but now as he knelt on the stone cold floor, knees straddling the tub before him, he felt nothing but shame and remorse for his actions.

Arthur was leaned forward, his arms encircling Merlin's slight torso. The boy had been submerged in the cool water of this bath for more than an hour and despite the liquids cool temperature Merlin's skin was still smoldering with an unnatural heat.

Just when he had thought that the situation was beginning to look up, he had returned from a short rest to find Gaius and Gwen holding a thrashing Merlin as he struggled amidst a barrage of fever induced hallucinations. The younger man shouted out in blind panic, glassy eyes open but unseeing to reality. He held no recognition of the familiar faces around him, nor did he respond to the voices that called his name. It had been a battle to pour the sleeping draught into Merlin's clenched jaws, but they did and the boy's body soon submitted, growing limp in response.

The Prince was doing his best not to think of what had transpired over that long hour, because the events had caused the fear that usually lay dormant inside him to surface. Arthur despised the uselessness he had felt as the fever continued to rise and Gaius' face grew graver. He had felt so defeated and exhausted -they all were. Merlin would fight his fever another two hours before it spiked to a more critical level. It was during those moments as his eyes met the physician's and saw that unmistakable look of sadness that Arthur had truly thought Merlin was going to die.

Moments later, Arthur found himself kneeling in the same position he finds himself now, his arms steadily trembling from a likely mix of both the cold and of strain. Arthur's legs ached, his knees pleading for a new position, his feet having long since lost their sense of feeling, but Arthur didn't move. The older man continued to hold on, clutching the body of his servant, letting Merlin's head lean back and rest in the crook of his neck.

He would see Merlin's sharp features if he dared look down through his lashes, but the same guilt that had kept him by the man's side all this time, had also kept his eyes averted. He rather chose to kneel in silence, letting his friend's breath ghost over his skin, reminding him that life still remained.

With a burdened sigh, Arthur carefully lowered an arm and dipped it into the water, bringing up a cupped palm filled with water. Gently, the Prince spilled the contents onto his friend's chest, letting it glide down Merlin's half submerged torso in rivulets. He continued to repeat the process, praying that the coolness would somehow seep into the younger man's body.

"How is he?" a voice asked from behind him. Arthur startled, causing a splash, as his arm jerked and hit the water. Looking up he could see Gaius entering the chambers with a bucket clutched in his arms.

"I was hoping you'd be able to tell me." Arthur confessed. "I can't tell. I don't…"

"It's alright, Sire." Gaius responded, walking up to the tub. With a tip of the pail in his hands, a fresh stream of cold water was sent pouring into the bath. After setting the empty bucket aside, the physician knelt down and placed an aged hand to Merlin's brow. 

Arthur watched the older man intently, studying every look that passed over the man's lined face. "Well?"

Gaius sighed and glanced at Arthur with a weary yet confident expression. "It seems to be working," he announced. "Merlin has made some progress, though I assure you this is not over."

Despite the warning Arthur let out a bark of relief, tightening the hold he had on his servant as if he was hugging the unconscious man. "But it has gone down so there's a chance?" he asked in a voice lined with hesitant hope.

"Yes sire there is a chance. We just need to continue keeping him as cool as possible."

With a nod Arthur resumed pouring liquid over his friend, stopping occasionally to wipe Merlin's face with a cloth and cautiously trying not to dampen the bandages about his head. Deep down he couldn't help but hope for the best, because thoughts of the worst were too unbearable to consider.

It went on that way for some time more, until Gaius had deemed it safe for Merlin to be removed from the water. By then Arthur was struggling to stand, his breath hitching in his throat as the blood began to circulate properly through his limbs and what felt like a thousand tiny pin pricks assaulted the extremities. Guards were called and the Prince was assisted to a nearby chair, while Merlin was carried as gently as possible to his room. There, Gaius set to work drying the boy's wrinkled skin with soft towels. By the time Arthur was able to hobble into the room, Merlin was cocooned in his blankets and Gaius was removing the last of his bandages.

"How does it look?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"Better than I expected." Gaius admitted. "I had feared that he would not make it this far but the wound is showing signs of healing. If it continues on at this rate…well, it is clear Merlin is fighting and I'm beginning to let myself believe that he may be strong enough to overcome this."

Arthur inhaled a deep breath, letting the comforting words sooth his weary body. He sat down on the edge of the tiny bed and watched the old physician apply some salve before beginning to delicately wrap Merlin's head once again with clean strips of linen. Nothing more was spoken between the two men during that time, whether that was because of exhaustion or a silent mutual understanding for desired peace - neither said.


	7. Identity Crisis

Chapter 7: Identity Crisis

Gaius had insisted on keeping Merlin in a drug induced sleep, hoping that the extended rest would allow the boy to heal faster. He mentioned that it would be safer for him to remain still after such a procedure and he also admitted that it was far more humane than to allow Merlin to suffer the pain that conciousness would surely come with. Arthur, despite the Physician's long list of reasons, had hated every minute of the last couple of days. It had been disturbing to see such a normally animated person such as Merlin being so quiet and still, hour after hour. The Prince had felt edgy and trapped in a room full of silence, with only his turbulant thoughts and ever present guilt as constant companions. So it came to an immediate relief, when Gaius said he would stop sedating Merlin and would finally be allowing the younger man to emerge from his dreamless sleep.

Now, even though Gaius had said it would take some time, Arthur couldn't help but stare uninterrupted at the unmoving form of his manservant. He studied each feature, waiting for some kind of sign that the younger man was coming around. After hours of grueling wait, the Prince's patience was rewarded with a soft groan, seconded by a brief flicker of pale lids that had concealed the blue iris's for far too long.

"Merlin?" Arthur called hopefully, his hands twitching with effort as he resisted the urge to shake the awaking man.

Merlin's eyelashes fluttered lightly against his cheekbones.Several moments passed in deafening silence before the younger man rewarded the Prince with a small peek of the sappire orbs that were hidden beneath partial lids.

Arthur felt his muscles relax, as the anticipation he had been harboring quickly released. A relieved sigh soon followed and he couldn't help it as he flashed his friend an encouraging grin.

"It's about time," he huffed affectionately. "I thought you'd never wake up."

A confused look flickered through Merlin's eyes, his brow furrowing slightly as he stared at the blond man above him.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, frowning at the look of uncertainty on his servant's face. "Merlin?"

"Wha-" Merlin started, coughing when his voice came out raspy from under use. Arthur moved away and retrieved a goblet of water off the table.

"Here, drink this." He ordered, lifting the drink to his friends lips.

Merlin drank greedily, letting out a noise of contentment as the liquid slid down and flushed out the dryness. "Thanks." he murmured, looking at the prince intently. "What...happened?"

"We were hoping you'd tell us." Gaius interjected, a fatherly smile creasing his lined face as he entered the small room. "It's good to have you awake my boy, you had us all worried."

Merlin looked at the older man with confusion and tried to think but still nothing came to him. "I don't remember." He spoke with dissapointment. "Where's my mother?" 

"I sent word to her already. She should be here in a few days, the end of the week at most."

Once again a bewildered look washed over the young man's face. "A week?!" he croaked. "I don't understand!" Looking desperately around at his surroundings "Where am I?" he panicked, eyeing the unfamiliar room and inhabitants as if it were for the first time. "Why am I here?"

"Merlin calm down," Gaius soothed. "You had a bad knock to your head and confusion is to be expected."

"Confusion?" Merlin squeaked. "You talk to me as if you know me, yet I've never seen either of you before!" he spouted in a rush of unease, trying to rise up from the small bed he was lying upon.

"Oh dear." Gaius whispered worriedly.

"Gaius?!" Arthur hissed anxiously. "What's happening?"

"Just a moment, Sire." The Physician answered, moving closer to his ward. "Please calm down a moment my boy, I know you must be scared but this can be explained if you'll settle down and allow me." He spoke calmly, his aged hand reaching for the boys shoulder.

Instinctively, Merlin shrank away. "Who...who are you?" he whispered, his eye's frightened and wide like a deer caught in a hunter's sights.

"My name is Gaius. I am a friend of your mothers...Hunith." he explained.

The phyisician felt relief wash over him, when Merlin visibly relaxed. "Gaius?" Merlin stated. "My mother has spoken of you, she said that you resided in Camelot. I'm supposed to go there and stay with you in a few weeks, she wrote a letter for me to give you."

Arthur opened his mouth to comment, but Gauis silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Yes, that's right Merlin."

"But why are you here?" he questioned. "Infact, where is here?"

"This is going to be hard for you to understand at first but I need you to keep an open mind and listen to me carefully. Can you promise to here me out?" Gaius asked.

Merlin nodded, his eyes borring into the man before him like a lost puppy, not knowing what else to do.

"Good, very good." Gaius smiled fleetingly, patting the boys knee with unrestrained affection. "As I said before, you had an accident. You hit your head and the blow almost killed you."

Merlin paled at the information. "I almost died?" he whispered.

"Yes, very nearly, but you didn't." Gaius comforted. "Now, head injuries can have a lot of adverse reactions that accompany them. It appears that in your case memory loss is one of them."

"I don't understand," Merlin breathed, looking around once again. "Am I supposed to know this place?"

"Yes Merlin, you are." Gaius answered. "This is your room, and you are in Camelot. You already came to stay with me and have already given me the letter Hunith wrote."

"But...I can't... I couldn't of." Merlin stammered, his breathing becoming increasingly more erratic. He looked horified.

"Calm down, I know it's a lot to take in, but it's not good for you to get so upset. I need you to slow your breathing."

"How long?" he whispered, panting with worry.

"How long what, Merlin?"

"I want to know how long I've been here. How much of my memory is missing?" he gasped.

"You came to Camelot a little over two years ago. You have lived here with me in the castle ever since."

"Two years!" Merlin exclaimed. "I'm missing two years! Who are you?" Merlin questioned, looking at the blonde man, who until now had been staring at the scene before him with a worried almost hurt expression.

"I'm Arthur." The Prince answered with morose dissappointment. "You...you work for me."

"I what? What do I do?" Merlin asked baffled, but clearly interested.

"You're my manservant." The man huffed.

"You're manservant?" Merlin frowned. "Are you a knight? I've never met a knight before," he commented. "Or at least I don't remember having met one."

Gaius smiled softly and Arthur snorted. "You've met plenty I assure you, as for me I'm the crowned Prince."

Merlin's face morphed into instant panic. "Oh...I'm sorry your madjesty! I've been so rude, I didn't know who you were - I meant no disrespect, honest!"

Arthur's frown deepened further and words seemed to fail him as he looked at the familiar eyes that looked back at him with such foreign expressions. There was no sign of his friend anywhere within the depths that stared at him and the realization made his stomach churn. He couldn't stand Merlin's look of expectancy anymore, all of a sudden the room felt to small, to hot. "I...I've got to go" He spouted and with a dismissive wave, he retreated.

Merlin looked at Gaius' with a fearful expression. "I didn't mean to make him angry. I don't-" 

"No Merlin, he's not mad at you." Gaius interupted. "He's upset by the situation."

"Why? Is he worried that I won't be able to do my job?" Merlin asked. 

Gaius smiled sadly. "No Merlin that's not why. You see, the prince is a very complicated individual, and even though you may not remember the last two years, he does. Despite all the pesudo pretenses that Arthur throws up for the sake of propriety, the two of you have formed somewhat of a bond, a kind of friendship. He's not mad that you have been incompasitated, he's mourning the loss of his friend. He would never admit to it, but he does care."

"So I work for and I'm kind of friends with the Prince of Camelot." Merlin surmised in awe.

"Yes, not to mention you're also his under appreciated gaurdian."

"His what?" Merlin frowned.

"You have been protecting him with your magic since you arrived." Gaius grinned.

Merlin's head whipped up in alarm. "You know? Does he?" he choked.

"I've known from day one when you saved my life." Gaius chuckled. "But the Prince however does not know and neither does anyone else."

"So I keep it a secret?" he whispered with clear relief, but there was also a hint of underlying disapointment.

"Yes, magic is forbidden in Camelot. Users and even those suspected of sorcery are executed."

Merlin's face was suddenly devoid of all color. "Executed..." he whispered, feeling nausiated.

Gaius nodded in aknowledgement, before patting his apprentice on the shoulder. "Try not to dwell to much on it right now. The important thing is that your alive and the rest of the details can be worked out later."

"Will I ever remember?" Merlin asked, hope clearly lining the words.

"I don't know Merlin." He admitted. "Some in your condition recover within days and some never do. Others it takes a significant time to recover the lost memories, even years. There is no way to scientifically determine either way. All you can do is wait and try to reclaim as much of your life back as you can. Find a routine and try to adapt."

"How do you go on with a life you can't remember? Talk with people you don't know but should?" Merlin asked dejectedly.

"I never said it would be easy," Gaius commented. "I'm sure it will be frustrating for all parties involved, but things will get better. That is a promise I can make you."

Merlin smiled and the older man returned the guesture. "Now you need more rest young man." Gaius stated as he stood up with a huff. "You are still my patient and I want you to go to bed. We can discuss this further when you are stronger."

Merlin answered with a yawn and a soft hesitant smile. Carefully, he leaned back on his pillow and closed his eyes. The warlock's mind instantly floated towards the mysterious Prince who had been in the room earlier, he never heard the retreating steps nor the click of the door.


	8. Awkward Changes and Painful Flashes

Chapter 8: Awkward Changes and Painful Flashes (SPOILERS) for 1X10 Moment of Truth

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Arthur lifted his head from his pillow and looked blearily over at the door which was emitting an almost hesitant knock. With a groan he flipped over onto his back, kicking the twisted sheets from around his legs.

"Enter!" he called out, sitting up with a stretch of his spine. The Prince watched disinterested as the door opened slowly and a familiar lanky frame slid into the room with a tray.

"Merlin?" Arthur spouted, suddenly more alert.

Merlin set his master's breakfast on the table. "G…good morning, your Majesty." he stuttered, with a messy bow. It had been days since his awakening and since then he had only seen the man before him a handful of times and even then their exchanges had been brief and almost painfully awkward. 

Merlin had chosen to focus on his mother once she arrived and he had admittedly felt far more relaxed once she had confirmed that the stories the unfamiliar people had told him were indeed true. He couldn't begin to express his relief and joy at having Hunith beside him during such a trying time and he also couldn't help but desire to cling to her familiarity like a lifeline. She seemed to be the only thing that made him feel grounded. 

"I didn't expect you back so soon." Arthur admitted with a hopeful smile. 

Looking into the expectant eyes of the Prince, Merlin suddenly felt like his decision to attempt to return and recreate his old routine as explained by his reliable sources, seemed like a huge mistake. "Gaius, he…uh…he said I was well enough to attend to you as long as my duties are not too strenuous. He thinks it might be of help - that is…that is if you allow me to, Sire."

Merlin began to panic as he watched the Princes smile dissipate and morph into a deep frown. Merlin tore his eyes away and looked to the floor, his hands in front of him ringing each other nervously. "I…I'm sorry." he whispered.

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked affronted.

"I clearly…I mean…I assume I did something displeasing. Your expression…you're disappointed."

A deep sigh escaped Arthur as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. "You did nothing wrong, I just…I have a lot on my mind."

The tension in Merlin's frame seemed to lessen with mild relief.

Not knowing what else to do, Arthur seated himself and began to eat quietly, an awkward silence growing thick between them.

Slowly, Merlin moved away and began to straighten the bed sheets, his fingers brushing the wrinkles away. Merlin couldn't help but occasionally shift his gaze to glance at the Prince, his eyes scanning over him with unbridled curiosity. He felt an almost unbearable desire to speak but his mouth would not function, the words refusing to come.

The blonde man before him was a stranger, even though a small churning in his stomach tried to tell him otherwise. He urged himself to remember something…anything about the young royal, but his efforts came up empty with each effort. When Arthur looked up and caught him staring, Merlin looked away with a heated blush spreading across his cheeks, as he quickly gathered a few pieces of stray clothing off the floor.

A flash of disappointment crossed Arthur's features when the younger man nervously turned away. He felt the weight of guilt settling once more upon his conscience as he watched Merlin bustle about in the deafening quiet. The boy before him was no longer the friend he had come to depend on and despite his desire to remain optimistic, he couldn't help but think that despite all their best efforts in the days past, that the Merlin he had known had all but died in the stables that night. The man before him wasn't the same and Arthur didn't quite know how to handle this ever evolving situation. 

Deep inside, he felt as if he was mourning though his eyes could see the object of his grief standing before him with obvious life. It was a strange feeling, an unwelcome one and right now it was tugging at the fragile strings of the Prince's sanity. 

MERLINMERLINMERLIN

"I can't do this!" Merlin spouted, his body leaning against the door that he had just slammed closed behind him. 

Hunith eyed her son compassionately and made her way over to the clearly distressed boy. In one gentle movement Merlin was enveloped in her understanding embrace. "I know it must be hard my son but you must try and give it some time. Things will get better."

"You don't understand." he argued, stepping back to give space for his gesticulating movements. "The man just spent the last hour staring at me, watching me like I'm some sort of…of…creature…with two heads and…and horns or something!"

Hunith chuckled softly. "I'm sure it is not as bad as you describe, not to mention, I would bet you have been watching him a fair amount too."

"Well yes, but it's different," he defended himself. "I swear for a moment he look genuinely happy when I arrived but then I must have said or done something wrong because he looked like…I can't really describe the look, but it was odd…almost disappointed. I swear it was so silent in that room I could almost hear my own thoughts. I couldn't wait to get out of there and it seemed very obvious to me that the Prince felt the same way. It's terrifying…I didn't know if what I was doing was right or wrong…I just…I can't…"

"Merlin, look at me," Hunith murmured, clasping her son's face between the palms of her hands. "I know this is very hard for you, but you must also understand that it is hard on the others as well. No one means to make you feel uncomfortable or alienated."

"Can't we just go home…back to Ealdor? I don't fit in but I will always have you and Will."

Hunith's eyes saddened and she rubbed a thumb across Merlin's sharp cheek bones. "Yes, you have me Merlin, but someday I won't be here…and…William--"

Trepidation. That's the only word Merlin could use to express what he suddenly felt at his mother's hesitant and woeful look.

"Will?" Merlin asked with not much more than a breath.

"A year and a half ago, raiders were attacking our village. I came to Camelot for help and you returned with me along with Prince Arthur. He taught the villagers to defend themselves and we fought the men when they returned to pillage us again. During the battle a man named Kanen tried to kill Arthur…William saved him, you were there with him as he died…I'm so sorry." She whispered. Tears pricked her eyes at the sight of her son's horrified expression. It was as if he had lost his best friend all over again.

"No…" Merlin choked, backing away. "No!" he screamed, his face reddening, features contorting into pain filled loss. Salty tears slid freely down his face, the back of his hand was lifted to press firmly against his bared teeth. "No." 

Overwhelmed and devastated he fled to his room and slammed the door, leaving his mother feeling helpless in his wake. Merlin was breathing heavily as he paced his room. His mind was reeling as it tried to wrap itself around what his mother had said. Without warning, a sharp stabbing pain blindsided him and he couldn't help but release a startled cry. He grabbed his head with both hands, groaning as the almighty pressure filling his skull refused to subside. That is when jumbled images began flash in front of his eyes.

"Look out!" Will shouted, rushing forward and pushing the Prince out of the line of fire. In an instant his friend was pierced by the bolt that had been meant for the young royal.

"Will!" he heard his own voice scream, his trembling hand reaching out to catch his friend's body as he crumpled to the earth. 

(Shift) 

"This place has been boring without you,"Will choked out. "It was good to see you again."

Tears threatened to fall as Merlin gave his friend a reassuring smile that he couldn't feel, his long fingers stroking through Will's sandy brown locks. "Yeah, you too." he replied with a sniff.

"Merlin…Merlin I'm scared." Will admitted. 

"Don't be," he tried to comfort. "It's going to be alright." 

By then, all his friend could do was repetitively utter his name like a prayer, each one twisting Merlin's heart in his chest again and again. He clutched Will tighter, watching helplessly as the life left the man's body.

With a gasp Merlin collapsed to his knees, his lungs heaving for air as a wave of emotional agony swept over him. He remembered, the memory of it was fractured, but it was there. Will had died; there in his arms he had taken his last breath.

With a pain filled keen, Merlin wrapped his arms around himself and bowed forward, his face coming within inches of the floor. There alone in his room he sobbed and mourned the loss of his friend for the second time, though it felt as bitterly raw and new as the first.


	9. Memories that Scars Hold

Chapter 9: Memories that Scars Hold

When Merlin finally pulled himself off the floor and exited his room a couple of hours later, he found the quarters outside devoid of both his mother and of Gaius. With a deep breath he walked over to the small wash bowl on the table and carefully wiped at his face, clearing away the dried salty tracks. He felt emotionally spent; the burden of not remembering such a significant amount of your life, or the important and tragic events therein was stressful to say the least.

Slowly he made his way towards the kitchens. It was bad enough he had hidden himself away for such a long period of time. He knew bringing the Prince's lunch late would not help matters. He just hoped his appearance wasn't as bedraggled as he felt because things were strange enough as it was around Arthur.

Despite his slow pace, he soon found himself balancing a tray of rich foods as he knocked on the Prince's double doors. When the muffled "Enter" answered him, he sucked in a lungful of nerves and proceeded to move into the room. ‘You can do this’, he encouraged himself.

Arthur was watching him as he walked over and set the food down on the table, but he tried to ignore the Prince's gaze and instead focused on positioning the items correctly, just as Gwen had been showing him the day before.

Arthur's breath had hitched when Merlin entered, the skinny man walked silently across the threshold to start preparing his afternoon meal. As his servant leaned over, his shoulders hunched and eyes focus on his task, he couldn't take his eyes off him. He'd do anything about now to see Merlin toss a blinding grin over his shoulder and start running his mouth off with incessant nattering. Truthfully, this quiet veil that hung over them was beginning to become unbearable. 

Arthur moved away from the window he stood gazing out of and approached the younger man. Upon closer inspection he felt a rush of unease sweep through him at seeing that Merlin appeared almost haggard, he didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but the aurora around the younger man seemed more sullen than it had earlier and he couldn't help but notice the red rims around his eyes that stood out against the paleness of his skin. Suddenly, Arthur wished his powers of observation were not quite so acute. All he could do was hope he wasn't responsible for the present sadness in his manservant.

With a cough he cleared his throat and reached over to grasp his goblet to take a drink, in hopes it would refresh him and make the dryness ebb. Merlin quietly moved out of his way and pulled the chair out, allowing him to sit down.

"Are you ok Merlin? Are you not feeling well?" He ventured hesitantly, looking up at the man that stood over him through blond lashes. It was evident that the personal nature of the questions cought his servant off guard, for now Merlin was gaping like a fish, his eyes wide and unsure. 

"I…I'm fine" he answers when he recovers. The Prince can't help but let the words 'yeah right' sarcastically run through his head, because Merlin's response sounds a little too forced to be most likely true. Merlin was always rubbish at lying about his emotions and he clings to this remaining and still recognizable piece of his friend. 

"Are you sure?" Arthur presses. "You seem…I don't know," he gesticulates with a flit of his hand. "…sad or something."

Merlin frowns and looks to finger the loose threads of his sleeve. "I'm just trying to…figure things out. It's all a bit overwhelming…tiring."

"That's it?" Arthur says skeptically. He wants to point out 'Because your eyes are suspiciously red.' But the look on the man's face makes the phrase die on his lips. Merlin nods pitifully and Arthur sighs in defeat and proceeds to eat in silence again. 

Minutes pass and soon Merlin quits hovering and slinks off to start sweeping the fireplace. Despite the distance, both men however continue to sneak stolen peeks of each other through their peripheral visions.

After a time Arthur stands and walks over towards his bed, pulling off his tunic as he does so. Merlin's eyes curiously follow him and watches the Prince toss the garment onto the floor. "I wish to prepare for my training. I'll need you to help me with my armor." Arthur informs tonelessly.

'Oh crap!' Merlin thinks as he sits up from his place by the hearth and gives the older man a worried expression. "I…I-" he stutters with a blush of obvious embarrassment.

"Is there something wrong Merlin?"

"It's just…I don't know how to assemble armor. I mean, I'm sure I did, but I don't remember. I'm not…that Merlin anymore."

Looking a mix of sad and understanding, Arthur pursed his lips and nodded. "No, I suppose you're not."

"I'm sorry," Merlin murmured. 

The Prince let out an almost irritated snort to go with the roll of his eyes. "What are you apologizing for now?"

"Because this is hard for me and Gaius says it's also hard for everyone else, and I'm sorry that I don't remember how I met everyone, how we talked, how we acted, how things work...I'm just sorry - for making this difficult."

Arthur looked deep into the blue eyes that were looking so intently at him and he couldn't help but give a sincere but fleeting smile of encouragement. "It's not your fault. None of it is, so I expect the platitudes to stop."

Merlin smiled. It was brief and toned down compared to what he was used to but Arthur placed a little bit of hope for the future in that one expression. "Now, come and assist me. I'll show you how everything goes. If you learned it once, you can learn it again."

Merlin walked over and grabbed a clean tunic from the chest, then shuffled over to where the Prince was waiting. With a deep breath he stepped in front of the man and gathered the shirt up and slid the material over Arthur's head. He reached to pull the fabric outward's and allow for the man's arm when the sight of the scar tissue on the Prince's shoulder caught his eye. 

And then he was looking at Arthur lying in bed, deathly pale, sweat covering his brow, torso wrapped in bloodstained linen.

Arthur sensed Merlin's hesitation, heard a soft gasp and followed the man's gaze to the pink raised skin that had long since healed. The Prince frowned and looked back at his servant, who was staring. He was surprised to say the least when Merlin lifted a hand and unconsciously pressed his long fingers against the mark, a strange look that Arthur couldn't name appeared on his face, his eyes glazing over.

"Merlin?" he asked in confusion.

Merlin's breath caught in his throat as the sharp pain from earlier struck him again forcefully. 'Oh God! Not again,' With a startled groan he stumbled back, more garbled scenes flittering about his mind.

He saw a hideous creature with the body of a leopard and the head of a serpent. In one precise strike the beast's claws cut across Arthurs shoulder.

He's confused as the scenes shift at a nauseating pace. He saw glimpses of loss and pain, of a journey, a sorceress, of bargains, and recoveries.

He can see Arthur's chambers. The Prince is sitting in a chair, his arm in a sling, a goblet resting in his free hand, the firelight casting a peaceful glow about the room.

"Promise me this…" His own voice echoes. "…If you get another servant don't get a bootlicker."

"Is this you trying to leave your job?"

"No," he denies. "I'm happy to be you're servant - till the day I die."

Arthur looks up at him with an intense calculating look and then the image shifts again - leaving him briefly wondering what the man's response would have been.

Now, there is rain and it pours down in thick sheets, the drops mingling with his tears. "Gaius!" he hears himself say brokenly, his hands clutching to the older man's tattered robes. There was a feeling of great loss that spread through him when he receives no answer. Then with a mighty cry he lets out two bursts of "No-!" up to the heavens, the shouts backed by rolling thunder. His very heart was breaking and he buried his face into his mentor's chest, shocked a few moments later by Gaius's breathlessly murmured "Merlin?"

"Gaius!"He exclaims hopefully. "Gaius, you're alive!" With a smile plastered on his drenched features he hugs the man to him.

"What did you do?" Gaius asked suspiciously.

"Nimueh's dead. The balance of the world has been restored."

"You amaze me. You've mastered the power of life and death itself," the physician panted. "We'll make a great warlock out of you yet."

Merlin sucked in a deep breath and tried to compose himself as the pain released him, leaving him stunned as his vision cleared, his ears still ringing. He groaned as the Prince's face became visible before him, a worried expression plastering his handsome features. Arthur's mouth moved with frantic motions and Merlin fought to hear past the now fading noise.

"Merlin!" Arthur called, clearly in distress. "Merlin what's the matter, what's happening?!...Merlin!"

The Prince held tight to his servant's wrists, using his arms to shake the boy's torso. Merlin seemed to be out-of-it, somewhere between a trance and a pain filled haze. Then, almost as quickly as it had started, it was gone and he was peering into eyes that seemed once again somewhat coherent. 

"Merlin?" he hissed looking at the boy intently. Merlin blinked a few more times before finally giving the Prince a response, though not the one he had been anticipating.

"I'd be happy to be your servant…till the day I die." Merlin murmured breathlessly, like the phrase itself explained everything.

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion before a wave of recognition, followed by optimism swept over him. "You remember?" he whispered.  
"Pieces," Merlin corrected in a whisper. "I saw flashes of fragmented pieces...I remember that you almost died."

"Yes" Arthur confirmed. "I almost did." He let go of the grip he had on Merlin's wrist and finished maneuvering his arms into his tunic letting the material slip down over his chest. 

"Did it hurt you…remembering…the flashes? Has this happened before?"

With a hesitant look Merlin nodded. "It happened this morning. That was the first one; this was the second. It kind of feels like I got kicked in the head by old man Hauffer's mule." Then there was a small smile touching the younger man's lips like he was experiencing the humor of an inside joke of some kind. A small flush spread across Merlin's cheeks and he was ducking his head shyly, reaching for the Prince's hauberk. When Merlin turned away Arthur smiled. Merlin had remembered something, a memory of Camelot, of him. He knew that it wasn't much but he couldn't stop the glimmer of hope that sparked in his eyes.


	10. Of Love and Loss

Chapter 10: Of Love and Loss

Two more days passed with less silence, and a little more smoothness. During that time Merlin had seen flashes of what appeared to be a large dragon, an ugly troll like creature, followed by a few sporadic phrases spoken like ghostly echoes in his head. Merlin even remembered two spells, which felt strange since he didn’t remember studying magic--though Gaius assures him that he did. Each instance was triggered either by something visual or with similarly worded dialogue from the people surrounding him. The pain that came with them was reducing each time, but they still left a dull throb in their wake. He had quickly discovered that the smaller the flash, the less it affected him. 

Even though Merlin felt wary of what his forgotten memories might hold, he also couldn’t contain the intense and addictive curiosity that flooded through him. It was that same curiosity that had him now fiddling with the drawer of his quaint bedside table, fumbling with its contents sloppily as he looked for more items that might stimulate or trigger his flashes. 

Even though the Prince had not admitted to it, Merlin noticed Arthur had started leaving little things scattered about in hopes that he might remember certain events. The only reason Merlin knew of this was because when he was cleaning and picked up the miscellaneous belongings the older man would occasionally ‘perk up’ and appeared to be looking for a particular reaction from his servant. More often than not these last two days Arthur was left wanting. Merlin had been pleased with his own progress until the small bit of non-awkwardness that he had achieved seemed to be regressing as the silent pressures being placed on him to remember felt more and more overwhelming. Gaius had told him to quit trying so hard and to let the memories come naturally, but it was becoming increasingly harder to watch the Prince’s face go from anticipation to sullen repeatedly throughout the day. 

Merlin sighed and was sliding his hand further back when his fingertips brushed a hard object that was sitting in the farthest corner of the drawer, its surface smooth to the touch. Interest peaked; he curled his fingers around the item and retracted his hand. He was surprised to see a wooden figurine carved into the likeness of a dragon. Carefully he turned the object around in his palms, studying each curve.

A man flashed before his mind’s eye, his body was wrapped in a long thick coat of pieced leather. His deep brown eyes were illuminated by the surrounding firelight, and his long brown hair swept down to his shoulders, a thick beard covering his strong features. One of his hands gripped a lump of wood, while the other held a sharp knife. With graceful ease the man before him whittled away, stopping a moment to blow and disperse a few unwanted curls.

“How did you become a Dragon lord?” Merlin asks hesitantly.

“I didn’t choose to became a Dragon lord, it’s not something you’re taught. It’s a sacred gift.” Merlin nods his understanding as Balinor continues. “For thousands of years it’s been handed down from father—to son. That is what you must now become Merlin.”

“I would like that.”

Balinor fiddled with the knife in his hands as he talked. “Like all Dragon lords, you won’t know for sure if you have that power until you face your first dragon.” The man’s fingers brushed across the wood in his hands and he brought the block up to his face and blew the shavings away from his work space.

“You should get some sleep” Balinor says as he begins to stand. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

As Balinor turns away Merlin catches a softly uttered “Goodnight son” and he can’t help but smile.

“Sleep well father” he spoke after the retreating back, the exhilarating feeling of finally having his father so near made his heart swell with an indescribable joy.

*flash*

Merlin was stunned as Cendred’s soldier knocked the sword from his hands then lifted his weapon to provide a killing blow.

In an instant Balinor was in-between his son and the looming danger, and without hesitation he bravely took the blow meant for the boy. His eyes grew wide as pain exploded throughout his abdomen and he fell back into the arms of his devastated son.

Merlin held tight to his father and looked at the soldier with deep seated venom. With a mighty roar, his eye’s flashed gold, and the man was flung away and sent crashing into a nearby tree.

Together father and son lowered to the ground.

“I see you’re inherited your father’s talent” Balinor gasped and gripped his son’s arm tighter. “Merlin” he breathed.

“Please! No…please!” Merlin begged to whichever god would listen. “I can save you” he spouted but the quiver in his voice belied the confidence of the statement.

“Listen to me” Balinor said firmly. “When you face the dragon—Remember, be strong, a dragon’s heart is on its right side not its left.

“I can’t do this” Merlin choked tears welling up in his eyes.

“Listen to me” Balinor encouraged breathlessly. “You are my son. I have seen enough of you to know that you will make me proud.”

Merlin continued to fight the torrent of emotions running through him as his father lifted his fingers and lightly stroked his pale cheek. Merlin gasped as Balinor’s head began to slip back. “No!” he hissed brokenly, followed by a breathy pleading “Father” as he lay the man’s body down onto the earth. Then there were tears bursting from behind their barriers and spilling down his cheeks. Not even the presence of the arriving Prince to the scene could have stopped the initial pain induced flood.

Merlin gasped as he was released and sent hurtling back into reality, his mind reeling with the revelations that came flooding to the surface. With shaky hands he clutched the wooden dragon to his chest, pressing it painfully tight against his hammering heart.

“I knew my father” he breathed in awe, his eyes wide and dazed. ‘but then you lost him again’ his mind reminded him cruelly. In moments he was blinking back the threatening tears, his breath hitching in his tightening chest. In an act of desperation, he slid off the bed and made a lunge for the door. Hunith and Gaius both looked up as Merlin burst into the main room, an object clutched to him, a pleading look in his now wet eyes. “My father” he choked out, looking at the two of them with such a lost and devastated expression. “I met him…I--he died.”

Together both Gaius’ and Hunith’s faces flashed with pity. The older man stepped back a few spaces to give way to Hunith who quickly moved over and took her son into her comforting embrace. It would be in that position that Arthur would find them in upon his entrance moments later.

“Gaius?” The Prince asked in confusion, watching as a watery eyed Hunith mouthed softly to Gaius before herding Merlin who sniffled something about his ‘father’ back into his room for privacy. When the door closed behind the pair, Arthur looked expectantly at the Physician for answers. “What happened? Is Merlin ill? Is he…” “Sire” Gaius interrupted. “I assure you he’s fine--physically, he just remembered something. It was a painful memory spun from a very difficult time in Merlin’s life.”

“What did he see?” Arthur asked, his gaze still placed firmly on the solid door as if his gaze alone could penetrate it. “I heard him mention his father.”

Gaius looked at the worried young man and swallowed heavily. “He remembered his father.”

The Prince’s gaze was on him almost instantly. “You said he only lost the last two years. Merlin told me himself that hasn’t seen his father since before he could remember.”

The older man let out a weighted sigh and shook his head. “That was before. The boy met his father some months back, and” “He what?!” Arthur interjected. “He would have told me if he had.”

“Sire.” Gaius spoke in a tone that requested silence. “The events leading to his father’s discovery were sudden and unexpected. Merlin only spoke to him briefly; but the fates were cruel and he died in an accident before the two could have a proper reconciliation.”

“He didn’t…I would have given him time off. I would have…” Arthur hesitated and looked back at the door were the soft murmurs of a loving mother comforting her weeping child could still be heard. 

“Your Majesty, You have to understand that Merlin was beside himself with grief; it was his desire to continue on and mourn in peace. He did not wish to talk about it then, and I would ask you to respect his privacy and stay silent about this later. It is bad enough he has to relive this event a second time, I do not wish for him to suffer anymore than he already is.”

Arthur nodded quietly while looking at a loss as to what to do with this new found information. Part of him understood Merlin’s need for privacy, for he too did not share much of his personal tragedies, except that in the last few years he has found himself grudgingly telling Merlin pieces here and there. The man had a way with worming into to his life and scaling his carefully constructed walls. It was all quite infuriating, but he felt a connection to Merlin that he has felt with no other—a kind of bond, a friendship so to speak. There was something devastatingly painful in realizing that Merlin was not as much of a ‘read all’ book as he had thought. Part of him knew that there was nothing he could have done for his manservant had he told him, but part of him craves the depth of trust that comes from being privy to such moments in another’s life.

In contemplative silence the Prince retreated from the room. He did not ask for Merlin’s services for the rest of the day.


	11. Of Hunts and Horses

Chapter 11: Of Hunts and Horses

Gaius warned Merlin about the Prince’s vague knowledge before he left to attend to Arthur for the morning. He felt nervous and once again awkward for having been seen in such a state of emotional chaos, but he was also thankful for having been given the time he needed to piece himself back together. His mother and Gaius had comforted him for hours, told him stories about the man he had barely known, and described him to the best of there abilities. In the end he had felt closer to the man his mother called Balinor. His father.

He knocked hesitantly before slipping into the Prince’s chambers. Arthur was already dressed in his hunting leather’s and seated at his table with a full goblet touching his lip’s.

In an instant their eye’s met and Merlin felt a lump growing in his throat.

“Ah, Merlin!” Arthur greeted, as he placed his drink back down on the table. “I want you to pepare our things, because we’re going hunting today with some of the knights.”

“W...what do you wish for me to get. I’ve never gone on a hunt before.” Merlin murmured with a small flush heating his cheeks. It was embarassing to have to be told over and over how to do thing’s he knew he should already know how to do. He never thought he could feel as inadequite as he had these past weeks.

“Sir Galahad’s squire Rupert should be down in the stable’s about now, if you need some help I’m sure he’d be glad to lend a hand.”

Merlin nodded and swallowed thickly. “Is that all sire?” he inquired.

Arthur seemed to study the man a few more second’s before gesturing towards the door with his hand. “You may go” he dissmissed.

Merlin drew in a relieved breath and scurried to the door, twisting the handle in his hand. 

“And Merlin” Arthur announced, causing the boy to tense up, and cast a curious look over his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but for what it’s worth I want you to know that what ever happened--I’m truly sorry...about the loss of your father.” He said softly. 

Merlin blinked and tried to cover up his shocked expression, but he also couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through him at the Prince’s words. He gave the young royal a small but grateful smile acompanied by a short bow. “Thank you your Madjesty.” He murmured and quietly slipped out the door. Arthur’s eye’s continued to bore into spot where his servant had been standing long after the boy had gone. 

MERLINMERLINMERLIN

After a detailed lesson from Rupert, Merlin found himself shuffling along to and fro, carring and attaching packs and other supplies onto the awaiting horses. Hearing Arthur’s voice from somewhere beyond him, the young man look up and watched curiously as the Prince strode towards him, a beautiful Mare in tow.

The Prince was instantly engaged in conversation with several of the knights who were preparing for the hunt as well. Merlin couldn’t help but feel guilty at how at ease Arthur looked while talking to the young men, when he seemed nothing but tense and uncomfortable when in his presence--though he supposed he was just as much responsible for the akwardness as Arthur was. Merlin couldn’t help but breifly wonder what things would have been like between them had his injury never been sustained.

Merlin’s thoughts were abruptly interupted when the Prince’s horse tossed it’s head and reared up. 

In a flash Merlin was seeing the same image but in a different perspective and setting. There was darkness, with the sounds of pounding rain, and howling wind. He could see the animal before him with terrified eyes, lifting it’s masive body up in the throes of panic. The vision is broken and out of sequence, the images flittering around are unclear and hazey at best, but he breifly remembers the pain, the coppery stench of blood, and thunder echoeing in his ears.

Arthur gently tugged at the reigns “Whoah” he laughed. 

“Spirited isn’t she sire?” Sir Galahad comented.

“Yes, but she’s young and it’s to be expected. I’m willing to bet that in a few months Vidaldei here will be one of the best in our stables.”

Galahad smiled. “You’ll hear no argument from me. She’s a fine animal.”

Arthur pated Vidaldei’s neck proudly and lead her forward, when he looked over at his manservant the grin he had been sporting fell to an expression full of confusion. Merlin looked pallid, eye’s wide with a faraway look held deep within them. “Merlin?” he asked, passing the reigns off to Sir Pellinore before moving forward in concern. “Merlin?” he called again. 

With a jerk Merlin started and his irises focused on the man infront of him before shifting to the Horse that stood just beyond.

“What is it? You’re pale as a sheet Merlin.”

“I don’t think you should take that horse sire.” Merlin murmured still gazing at the beast worriedly.

Arthur snorted, his concern fading swiftly. “Why on earth not, she needs trips like these to get ajusted.”

“Sire, she spooks easily.” Merlin insisted looking at the Prince, willing him to understand.

With a huff Arthur rolled his eyes upwards. “Like you would know anything about horses. Really now Merlin, I was assured that she had a good temperament, Cardinolff garreenteed her himself and he’s not only the best horse trader in Camelot, but my fathers friend aswell.”

Merlin shook his head in frustration, and watched dejectedly as the Prince turned his back on him. “I remember” he murmured quietly for only the breeze to hear. He looked on as Arthur mounted Vidaldei and ordered the rest of the hunting to follow his lead. Merlin let out a shuttering breath and resisted the urge to shout at the young royal who brushed him off with so little a care. He pushed the fractured memories from of his mind and pulled himself clumsily into the saddle, following obediently without further objection. 

MERLINMERLINMERLIN

An hour later the hunting party was well into the forest, Arthur with a heads lead, and Sir Leon pacing near him. Sir Pellinor, Sir Bors, and Sir Galahad were taking the middle, as Merlin seemed to sulkily lag behind. The young servant spent most of the journey in chosen silence, never noticing the odd looks that the Prince occasionaly tossed him from over his shoulder. Though the ever observant Sir Leon noticed them, because it was the first time in so many months that Merlin had trailed so far behind on such a trip. He was usually positioned near to the Prince’s side jabbering away. It was quite obvious that despite all the bickering about the skills of hunting going hand in hand with the art of listening and the disipline of quiet, the young royal was missing the insesant nattering of his faithful servant...and dare he say friend. 

The day passed with little excitement. Even without the added support of Merlin’s signiture acts of complete discaordination the hunt was turning out to be quite poor. Only a few pheasants and rabbits were to show for hours the group had spent tracking. Despite the meager catch, the men were in high spirits. Even Merlin who had tried to shadow for the most part had begun a slowly creep towards the front, and was now trailing quietly a few paces behind Arthur.

The journey towards Camelot was set at a leasurely pace, most of the knights were relaxed and in the midst of various topics, and forms of banter with each other. It came as to a complete surprize when the slick body of snake slithered momentarily unnoticed from underneath the surrounding shrubery. Vidaldei was the first to notice the scaley reptile that intruded on her path, and in an instant her ears twitched--the threatening sounds of hissing filling her sensitive ears. Arthur who had been mid conversation with Leon felt the tensing of the massive body beneath him, and before he could process so much as another thought his horse was already rearing up. Vidaldei let out a shriek of panic and stubled backwards till her rump collided with Merlins more dossile ride. The Prince managed to keep his balance and stay in the saddle, but he had to fight for control against the startled beast. He felt the solid collision as his horse struck the rider behind him. 

Merlin couldn’t help let out a shout as his horse then jumped back and swung it’s body away, ignoring the low hanging branch he was sending his rider towards. With a grunt Merlin struck the wooden obsticale--the shock of the impact causing his fingers to lose his grip on the reigns and send him tumbling sideways. The ground came up to fast, and the landing ripped the breath painfully from his lungs. Merlin didn’t even get the chance to process the fact that he couldn’t breathe before his head met the unmovible ground with enough force to send light exploding against the backs of his clench eyelids.

It hurt. Merlin wanted to suck in a deep breath and shout out, but no air came, his lungs refusing to coapperate. He received only a burning ache for his trouble, a choked sound vibrating in his throat.


	12. How Things End

Chapter 12: How Things End

Athur tugged on his reigns and tried to still Vidaldei’s erattic movements when a startled shout reached his ears. He twisted arround in the saddle, looking over his shoulder just in time to see Merlin slipping off his mount and colliding with the solid ground.

“Merlin!” he shouted, while swinging his leg over his saddle and dismouting as quickly as he could. In a flurry of movement Arthur sprinted forward after absently tossing his horse’s lead towards Gallahad, his eyes never leaving his servant’s sprawled form. Sir Leon was at the boys side only moments before the Prince found himself on his knees beside him.

“Merlin!” he called, reaching out a quivering hand to grip the young man’s jaw and turn it towards him. 

“He’s not breathing Sire, I believe the breath was knocked from him.” Leon observed worriedly, watching as the boy seemed to try and open his mouth almost desperately, but no air was pulled in, nor did his chest rise. 

Arthur’s brow furrowed in concern, as Leon leaned forward and pulled Merlin’s lanky frame up until his servant’s back was pressed against the Knight’s chest. “You need to calm down Merlin.” Leon spoke as soothingly as he could. “Feel the rythm of my breathing? Now follow my lead. Breathe with me. Let the air come--don’t force it.”

The Prince frowned and was about to make a comment when Merlin inhaled a shuttering breath, followed by another, and another.

Sir Leon smiled reasuringly at Arthur when the young royal looked at him with questioning eyes. “My father did the same for me when I was twelve and fell from a tree.” He divulged, lowering Merlin’s slight body to the forest floor.

Arthur nodded gratefully before turning his attention back to his felled servant. Merlin had yet to open his eyes, his lashes however fluttered wildy across his flushed cheeks, the orbs trapped beneath the lids seemed to be rolling about in their sockets.

“Merlin” he muttered, lightly tapping the boys face, afraid that any real force might hurt the young man further. A low groan escaped past the parted lips, followed by a soft gasp.

MERLINMERLINMERLIN

Merlin pulled his head away from the warmth that was pressed against the side of his face with uncommon gentleness. His body was alive with promises of aches he was sure to feel later, but the pounding within his skull is what threatened to drive him to madness. The blinding light from earlier was all but gone, the flashes of the memories that bombarded him were disconcerting, overwhelming, but altogether welcome in the end. He could hear a voice beckoning to him from afar and felt himself drawn to the familiar sound like a moth to a flame. His first attempt to open his eyes led to a hiss as unshaded light came flooding in through the small crevises he had alloted. He slammed his lids firmly closed and grunted from the extra throbing that his previous actions had just added to his current suffering. 

The calls were more insistant now. He groaned and turned away as more warm touches and soft words pulled him further into consciousness until his thoughts felt clearer despite the ache residing there.

Causiously this time, and far more controled Merlin let his eyes slowly creep open. His pupils quickly contracted as the light spilled over them. When his vision ajusted he was looking straight into the worried face of Arthur, who at the moment seemed to be leaned over him in a protective manner with an expectant expression crossing his face.

With a shuddering sigh he let a pseudo frown form on his lips though the edges faught to quirk in blatant mutiny. “Pratt” he hissed, ignoring the pressence of the other knights. “You never listen to me. I told you not to bring that damned horse.”

An appauled look flitted over the other Knight’s features, but the Prince’s face held nothing short of shock. Merlin was satisfied as the expression quickly morphed into confusion, before hessitantly settling on something that looked suspisiously like hope.

Arthur had to take a moment in surprize, before he realized that this had been the first time Merlin had insulted him openly since the night of his accident. There is suddenly a slight tightening in his chest as he stared at the young man before him. The dwindling hope that he had been carrying around was quickly stoked and burning with a vengeance. Maybe, just maybe Merlin was still in there after all. Clinging to that reasuring thought he looked deep into the younger man’s deep blue eyes, searching and finding the twinkle of mischief that shone in both depths despite the pain the fall had induced.

“Merlin? Do you...” he cuts off his quetion, cringing when his voice cracks, his heart was now thumping wildly against his sternum. 

Merlin grins up at him, and it’s wide and pure like he knows exactly what the older man was going to ask. 

“Yeah” Merlin huffs, letting a breathy laugh escape him. “I remember.” he admits. “It’s a bit jumbled up, but it’s there—everything,” and his smile grows imposibly wider. For the first time in weeks Merlin feels normal, or at least as normal as he feels he should in the complexities that are his life.

Arthur feels his ears ring, and it’s like the giant bolder that has been pressing him down falls away. He lets Merlin’s infectious smile make him pull out his own, and he nods in relief. Not quite trusting his voice yet. He pats Merlin’s arm in a way that says I’m glad to have you back, though he’d never admit to that in public--if ever. If his touch lingers longer than it normal would than nobody notices. This Merlin was real, his Merlin was back and Arthur makes a vow to himself that he’d never allow something like this to happen again--especially because of him. It’s a promise, and he ittends to keep it.

Later that week, when Thomas and Harry notice Vidaldei missing from the stables they report it to Sir Leon, both men looking dutifully concerned. When the Knight simply shrugs and says not to worry about it the two men don’t argue. A month later Thomas spots the missing mare and taps Harry on the shoulder while he points to where Vidaldei stands. The fine animal looks out of place strapped down and pulling a very proud looking fammer Gillian’s cart. They look at each other curiously and just shrug before continuing on their way. Neither of the men ever mentions the fact that Merlin hasn’t been seen pulling stable duty since the ordeal, nor do they comment when young Rupert suddenly picks up where Merlin left off.. 

If Leon had an opinion in the matter the Prince was most assuredly not being over protective of his servant, but he was in fact being so for a friend. 

In the end there was one thing that was for certain--whatever was going on, or whatever had changed, Merlin himself was never going to complain about it.

~FIN~


End file.
